


The Vault Dweller and the Mercenary

by DragonoftheMidwest



Series: Tour of the Wasteland [1]
Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Domestic Violence, F/M, Family, Minutemen Quest, Pre-War, Roger Maxson is a fuckboi, Unplanned Pregnancy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-20
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-03-21 22:38:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13750656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonoftheMidwest/pseuds/DragonoftheMidwest
Summary: Prequel to The General and the Elder. I definitely recommend reading that first!Dr. Colette Arnold just wanted to figure out her life after her adoptive father, Nick Valentine, died.Instead, she watches as the world ends in nuclear fire. When her son goes missing, she has to find the detective out of Diamond City and get his help. The only problem is, she's never shot a gun before coming out of the vault. So before she finds the detective, she hires a mouthy mercenary to watch her back and teach her the ways of wasteland life.On hiatus until further notice





	1. Don't Blame the Children

**Author's Note:**

> The second section in this first chapter does contain a graphic scene in which domestic violence occurs.

**November 2076**

Dr. Colette Arnold handed her keys to the valet and entered the lavish event space. A live band was playing and the room was only lit by accent lighting, creating a subtle glow that had been common at the parties she had attended in college. Across the room, she spied the bar, and a mile long line to get to it. She huffed, preparing to spend the evening sober. 

“Colette, darling, how are you?” An overly cheery voice asked her. Colette plastered on a fake smile and turned around to see a woman with bottle blonde hair and icy blue eyes lined far too heavily. 

“Mrs. Maxson, what a pleasure to see you.” Colette greeted.

“I heard about Detective Valentine. So unfortunate.” Martha placed her perfectly manicured hand on Colette’s shoulder in what she imagined was supposed to be a reassuring gesture, but it only sent chills down Colette’s spine. “How are you holding up?” 

“Every day is a little bit easier. Now that the funeral is over and I’ve taken care of the last of the final arrangements, it’s less on my shoulders.” 

“Is he buried next to Jennifer?” Martha asked.

“Actually, both of my parents donated their bodies to the school. The new wing in the medical building is being named after them since I made a considerable donation when I signed over dad’s body. Should be interesting when students hear the story of how the Valentine Hall was named.” 

Martha’s smile dropped. “Well, let’s just hope they can do a little bit more good in this world. I’d love to stay and chat, dear, but Roger’s grandmother just arrived and I need to check up on her.” 

“Always a joy talking to you, Mrs. Maxson.” Colette lied as Martha Maxson pushed past her. 

Colette looked back over to the bar and groaned when the line was  _ longer _ than it had been before Martha stole her attention. 

“I know that face. You’re looking for this.” A voice purred while a hand floated an Old Fashioned in front of her. 

“You are my hero.” Colette smiled as she took the glass. “Thank you, Billy.” She pulled her long time friend into a hug. 

“That makes one person. I guess I might not be too bad at this soldier thing after all.” Billy Sharp smiled widely at her. 

“You shaved your head already?” Colette asked in surprise. He had grown his hair out for years, twisting them into beautiful locks. 

“I wanted to do it myself rather than wait to do it when I get to basic.” Billy rubbed his hand over his scalp. 

Colette sipped her cocktail. “So, how was is coordinating a party with the Maxsons?” She asked. 

“Oh it was a god damned nightmare. Martha wanted a string quartet until I convinced her that a Jazz band would lighten the mood considerably.

“And Roger?” Colette asked.

As if summoned, Roger Maxson appeared at her shoulder. “Colette, Billy.” He nodded at each of them in greeting. He had the same icy blue eyes as his mother, but his hair was naturally a pleasant sandy blonde. He was half a foot shorter than Billy, but comprised of solid muscle. 

Colette downed the rest of her drink. “Roger, how are you? I heard you were promoted to Captain.” Despite how insufferable his mother was, Roger was actually a decent human being. 

“I was. I’m gonna whip this kid into shape.” Roger elbowed Billy playfully. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Colette saw Billy wave to one of the bartenders. “Kid? You’re only three months older than me, Roger.” Billy reminded him. 

“I’m still your elder. And your commanding officer.”

“Not until after the New Year.” Billy told him, scowling slightly. The bartender he had waved at appeared with a tray of drinks in hand. Billy exchanged their empty glasses for full drinks.

Colette took her glass and let herself wander away from the bickering childhood friends. She mingled with the other guests, thanking people for their condolences for her adoptive father’s recent death. She danced with both Billy and Roger. Billy twirled her around while Roger held her close to the hard planes of his body. She lost count of how many drinks she’d had, so when Roger leaned down to kiss her at the end of the night, she stood up to meet him halfway. 

“Damn, I’ve waited years to do that.” He whispered when he pulled away. 

Colette hummed in response. Enjoying the pleasant buzz from the whiskey. “You waited years to just kiss me?” She whispered back in a challenge. 

“Are you asking for more?” Roger backed her up against the wall. The party was dying down, and most of the guests were gone. Billy had already hailed a cab home. 

Colette hummed again in response. 

“Answer me with words, Colette.” Roger breathed against her neck.

“I want you, Roger.” She said before she captured his lips in a kiss. He groaned as they opened their mouths to each other, his tongue dancing sloppily against hers. When they broke for air, he waved down a cab in the chilly November air. 

“Where to?” the driver asked. 

“42 Meadow Lane in Sanctuary Hills.” Colette told him as Roger placed wet, open mouthed kisses on her neck. 

The ride was agonizingly long, and when they stumbled into her house, Roger all but ripped the dress off of her as they made their way to her bedroom. 

They landed on the bed, with Roger on top of her. He impatiently kicked his pants off while she unhooked her bra and tossed it over him. Roger licked up her jaw line as he worked her underwear off. 

He didn’t bother with any foreplay, opting to slide into her with little preparation. “Shit,” he hissed. “You’re so tight.” 

Roger began thrusting, not keeping a consistent rhythm in his inebriation. The longer he went, the harder Colette had to fight to keep herself aroused. His pace quickened, and she knew he must be getting close. 

“Oh, god, Roger.” Colette over exaggerated her moan. If he wasn’t going to get her off, she was going to fake it. She squeezed her internal muscles around him.

That sent him over the edge, causing him to sputter and moan. Colette had to hold back a grimace as he finished inside of her. 

“Did you finish?” Roger asked as he pulled out of her.

Colette only hummed in response, not trusting her voice enough to vocalize the lie beyond that.

“Good.” Roger sighed as he got off the bed. “I’d hate to be that asshole.” He told her as he got dressed. 

Colette could only stare at the ceiling as he prepared to leave. She felt his seed oozing out of her and couldn’t wait until he left so she could take a shower and wash him off of her. 

* * *

Colette stared at the stick in her hands, two pink lines staring back at her. She was sure the pregnancy test would be laughing at her. She knew as soon as her period was late that she was pregnant, she just didn’t want to believe it until she confirmed it.

_ It only takes one time _ . Her mother had always told her. Her adoptive parents may have been infertile, but that didn’t mean anything for her.

Of course, that one time  _ had  _ to be with Roger Maxson, of all people. 

Colette sighed and shuffled down the hallway to the phone on the kitchen wall. Biting her lip nervously, she dialed the number to the Maxson residence. 

“Hello, Maxson residence.” A voice greeted. It must have been one of the servants. 

“Hello, my name is Colette Arnold. I’m calling for Roger Maxson Jr.”

“Young Master Maxson is out currently, would you like to leave a message?”

“Yes. I need to speak with him. Could you have him call me back when he returns please?”

“I will deliver the message to him. Will there be anything else, ma’am?” 

“No, that will be all. Thank you.” Colette smiled.

“My pleasure, ma’am.” the servant told her before hanging up the phone.

Colette waited with her stomach in knots. The phone never rang, but there was a knock at the door as she was cleaning up after her dinner. She swallowed her nerves and took a breath to steady herself before she went to answer.

Roger Maxson was standing on her porch.

“I was told you called for me. Wanting a round 2?” He smirked as he looked her up and down.

“Actually, you should come in and sit down.” Colette stepped back to let him in. He took a seat at the island on one of the bar stools. She took another deep breath before facing him. “I’m pregnant.”

Roger’s face dropped instantly. “What?” His tone turned cold as he stood up.

“I’m pregnant. It’s-” Colette swallowed, her stomach churning. “It’s yours.”

He smirked and shook his head. “No. It’s probably someone else’s. It has to be.”

Colette frowned at him. “I’ve only been with you. It’s yours, Roger.” 

Roger scowled and took a step toward her. “Get rid of it.” He growled. 

“No. I-”

“I TOLD YOU TO GET RID OF IT!” Roger roared as he backhanded her so hard, she fell to the floor. Her cheek stung, and she stared at him in horror.

“I don’t expect you to be involved. I only told you because you have a right to know.” Colette tried explaining to him. She tried to get up off the ground, but he grabbed her by the front of her dress. 

“I don’t want this brat coming back to haunt me.” Roger slammed her against the shelves. “That’s why you’re going to get rid of it.”

“No.” Colette protested weakly. “I want this baby. I won’t even put you on the birth certificate-” Roger didn’t let her finish before he threw her to the ground. She tried to catch herself, but her arm gave out under her weight with a sickening  _ crunch _ that shot fire and needles up her arm. 

Roger turned and paced back to the kitchen.  “I’m not going to tell you again.” he snarled at her.

“Roger-” Colette began weakly. She tried to duck as Roger hurled a glass pitcher at her. It shattered on the shelf next to her, and she could feel a shard cut deep into her face. She tried to dislodge it with her shoulder, but only dragged the glass further and deeper down her face. Her blood was pooling beneath her as Roger stepped up to her. He put his booted foot on her injured arm and applied the barest amount of pressure, she screamed in agony.

“If I come back from war and find out you didn’t end this nonsense, I will take care of you just like Eddie Winter did with your sorry excuse for a mother. Do you understand me?”

Colette nodded, tears and blood streaming down her face. 

“Good,” Roger kicked her stomach once for good measure before leaving her broken on the floor of her home, clutching her abdomen protectively.

* * *

She didn’t see Roger again before he deployed. Colette hid her pregnancy as long as she could, and even when she was showing, she didn’t tell anybody who the baby’s father was. She bought a Mr. Handy and started discreetly looking for jobs at hospitals in other cities to get far away from Roger’s influence before he returned from the war. 

She received an offer from a hospital in Florida. She made arrangements with the director of the hospital to move down in the spring after she had recovered from giving birth and she didn’t have to try to sell her house in the winter. 

Her labor was long and difficult. After 14 hours, the decision was made to have an emergency C-Section. Shaun Nicholas was born on August 23 at 7:04 am. 

On October 23rd, when Shaun was just two months old, Colette got a visitor that she had prayed she would never see again.

“Mrs. Maxson!” Colette smiled when she opened the door. “Come in, how are you?”

“I’m fine, Dr. Arnold. I heard about your bundle of joy. I wanted to stop by and tell you congratulations.”

“Thank you very much, Mrs. Maxson. I just put him down for a nap, otherwise I’d introduce him.” 

Mrs. Maxson smiled warmly at Colette. The house was silent aside from the sound of the Mr. Handy, who Colette had named Codsworth, puttering along and sweeping the floor.

“He’s Roger’s, isn’t he?” Martha asked.

Colette was stunned. Martha’s icy eyes stared into hers, Colette looked down at her feet to avoid her gaze. “Roger is the father, yes. He doesn’t want to be involved.”

“He’s going to be. You two need to get married.”

“No.”

“I beg your pardon?” Martha asked with fire in her eyes. “My son will not have some tramp raising his son and collecting child support.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing I don’t need child support. Roger’s name is not on my son’s birth certificate. Shaun will only know who his father is if I tell him, and I don’t plan on doing that.”

“That is unacceptable.” Martha advanced on Colette. “You will marry Roger when he returns, or I will make sure you never see your son again.” She hissed. 

Colette opened her mouth to respond, but before she could get the words out, sirens went off. 

“RESIDENTS OF SANCTUARY HILLS: IF YOU ARE REGISTERED, EVACUATE TO VAULT 111 IMMEDIATELY.” A voice announced over the wailing sirens. 

Colette ran down the hall into Shaun’s room and scooped him out of the crib. The sirens had woken him up and he was crying, waving his tiny fists in the air. “Shhh.” Colette hushed him as she ran out of the house, followed by Martha. 

“What’s happening?” The Maxson woman demanded behind her.

“Bombs!” Colette shouted.

Up the hill towards the vault they went, dodging Colette’s neighbors as they panicked. She reached the fenced off area and was stopped by the guard. “Dr. Colette Arnold.” She told him.

“Arnold, one adult woman, one infant. Go on in.” The power armored man waved her through. She heard Martha arguing with another guard, bribing or threatening him if he didn’t let her in. He must have relented, because Martha joined her on the platform just before they began to descend. Colette turned away as Boston fell to nuclear war. 

She got in line with her neighbors, escorted through the front rooms of the vault. She and Martha were handed blue and gold jumpsuits. Martha put hers on quickly, then held out her arms. “I’ll hold him while you get yours on.” Tears were in Martha’s eyes and Colette felt a little sorry for her, despite years of their families feuding. 

“Thank you, Martha.” Colette handed a still crying Shaun to his grandmother, who began bouncing him to try to soothe him. Once Colette got her jumpsuit on, one of the Vault-Tec scientists helped her into her decontamination pod. Martha held onto Shaun, who had finally stopped crying, as she climbed into her own pod. Colette’s blood pounding in her ears made it hard to understand what the voice on the speakers were saying, but as her world went dark, she knew her life would never be the same. 


	2. I'm Gonna Live til I Die

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In what felt like less than 24 hours to Colette, she had gone from being a life-saving doctor to having killed people using a gun, a bat, and a German Shepard.

Colette struggled to consciousness. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision. She realized the blurriness wasn’t from her eyes, but the frost covering the window to her pod. She could see the lights in the room outside of her pod, dim and flickering.

Frost? 

“Those fuckers.” Colette swore. When she got out, she was going to take a swing at the scientist who put her in a cryo-pod. Sounds from outside her pod caught her attention. Two people in white hazmat suits and a man in a leather jacket were making their ways down the row of pods, looking into the windows. They stopped in front of her pod with their backs to them, looking into the pod with Mrs. Maxson and Shaun. 

_ Shaun. _

“This one, here.” One of the people in the hazmat suits was saying. Their voices were muffled. The frost on her window was melting as Colette’s breath heated the glass. She could make out details better. The man in the jacket was bald, and she could see that he had some kind of armor on his right arm. 

“Open it.” Said the man in the leather jacket. Colette saw that he had a gun. 

A gun?

Mrs. Maxson’s pod opened, and Colette could hear Shaun crying. She pressed against the door to her pod, trying to get to her baby. 

“Is it over?” Mrs. Maxson was asking. “Are we safe now?”

“Almost.” The man in the jacket said. 

“Shaun!” Colette was pounding on the door. 

“Come here, baby.” One of the people in the hazmat suits was reaching for Shaun, but Colette saw Martha shake her head. 

“No, I’ve got him. It’s okay.” 

“Just hand him over. I won’t tell you again.” The man in the leather jacket pointed his gun at Mrs. Maxson. 

“NO!” Colette screamed, throwing herself against the door. 

“I won’t give you my grandson!” Mrs. Maxson shouted before the gunshot rang out. She fell back, blood spilling down her jumpsuit as Shaun was taken from her arms. 

“Let’s go.” The man told his companions. “At least we still have the backup.” The man said while looking in Colette’s window. 

“You son of a bitch!” She snarled at the man as he smirked at her. She committed his face to memory, knowing she would hunt him down. She continued to struggle against the door to her pod, even as her world turned dark and cold once again. 

* * *

 

Colette coughed, her lungs burning as she once again came to awareness. She pushed against the door to her pod, gasping when it gave under her and she fell to the floor. She caught herself on her forearms before scrambling up and looking around. She was the only one that was out of her pod. She darted to the terminal on the end of the row of pods. The terminal was unlocked, and a quick scan of the systems told her that the life support systems had failed.

“Shit.” She breathed as she keyed through the list of her neighbors, all dead. Her neighbors were dead. Martha was dead. 

And Shaun was missing.

She turned towards the door she had come into the vault through, trying desperately to tune out the sirens and the computerized voice that was telling her to evacuate. She knew she needed to get out, she just had to figure out how. 

The door she had come through was locked and inoperable, but another door was off to the side. Colette tried it and found it worked. Slowly, she made her way down the hall, keeping an eye out for any signs of life. Movement caught her eye off to the left, and she looked just in time to see something skitter across a glass window that looked into another room. She looked around the room, searching for some sort of weapon. She spied a security baton, and grabbed it. Taking a few practice swings to get used to the feel of it, she proceeded on. 

Something dark and about the size of a large cat skittered across the floor at her. She screamed and kicked out at it. A wet crunching sound made her stomach churn. She looked closer at the thing when it stopped moving. “Giant roaches. Fucking giant roaches.” Colette suppressed a shiver. She’d hated roaches when they were normal sized. 

She made her way through the vault, taking out roaches with her feet and the baton as she went. The vault was deserted aside from the giant roaches. She stepped over skeletons wearing vault suits like hers. “How long have we been down here?” She wondered out loud to nobody in horror. 

Colette finally came to an office. A skeleton covered by a white lab coat lay on the ground behind a desk. On the desk was a gun and a box of ammunition. She picked them both up and stowed them away for later. She’d never used a gun before, and didn’t want to waste ammo until she knew if she would need it when she left the vault. She got into the terminal and poked around on it. The more she read, the more her stomach churned. The scientists had planned to indefinitely leave the residents of Sanctuary Hills in cryostasis as a part of an experiment. 

She used the terminal to open the evacuation tunnel and grabbed more ammunition sitting in a box on a set of shelves on her way out. More roaches were in the next room, but she dispatched them quickly. When she finally reached the vault entrance, she was stuck. After killing another roach that was hiding under a box, she found a skeleton that had a PipBoy attached to its wrist. Colette examined the it and the console that would open the vault back up the outside world. She pulled the cord from the PipBoy and plugged it into the console, slamming her fist on the red button. She waited for the door to open before running down the stairs and letting the elevator take her back to the surface.

The sun was blinding, and it took Colette a solid minute before her eyes fully adjusted. 

She wished she could justify going back underground. 

Everything was dead. The trees that she and Billy had climbed as children were bare, giving her a clear view of the skeletal remains of the houses of Sanctuary Hills. Beyond that, everything was brown. She could see the Boston Skyline, buildings were missing or half destroyed, leaving the view she had grown up with broken. 

Colette fell to her knees, taking in the havoc that war had wreaked upon her home. She had never felt so small and helpless before.

And what was even worse, was knowing her son was out there, somewhere. 

* * *

“Go to Concord, the robot said.” Colette hissed as she ducked behind the rusted out remains of a car. “There are people there, the robot said.” The dog she had picked up darted ahead of her and she heard a body hit the ground. “Good boy.” She whispered as she popped her head over the car. The dog had taken out the nearest person that was shooting at her, and she took the opportunity to run across the street and dive behind another car. 

“Jackpot!” Colette cheered to herself as she pulled an aluminum baseball bat from underneath the car.  She tested the weight of the bat in her hands. 

The sound of rushing footsteps caught her attention, she looked over the car to see a woman running at her with a crowbar. Colette waited for her to come around the car before she swung the bat into her kneecaps. She felt the bone give beneath the bat as the woman fell to the ground, screaming. Colette let her instincts take over, finishing the woman off with a strike to the face, smashing her skull. 

Colette sat down, processing what she had just done while staring at the blood on her bat. She heard the dog snuffling beside her before settling down and laying his head on her thigh. She absently stroked his fur, contemplating the world she had woken up to. When Shaun had been taken, she had sworn to hunt his kidnapper down and end him. Now, she realized she was going to have to take many more lives before she reached that point. 

“Excuse me? Are you still out there?” she heard a man’s voice call from above. Colette turned and looked up towards the balcony of the old museum and saw a man in a tan coat 

“I’m here!” She called back, shielding her eyes against the glare of the sunlight. 

“I have a group of settlers in here and the raiders are trying to get through our barricades. Can you help us out?” The man asked. 

Colette took a deep breath. “Yeah. I’ll get you guys out of there.” 

“There should still be a working laser musket down there. I’ll see you when you get up here.” The man called out to her as she and the dog darted to the door, slipping in quietly. 

Colette didn’t look for the laser musket, she knew she wouldn’t know what to do with it. Instead, she would stick to her baseball bat and use the gun she had found in the vault if she absolutely needed it. 

She and the dog made their way through the half-destroyed museum, avoiding debris and dodging bullets from the raiders. The dog would run ahead of her and take down their adversaries so she could follow up with a devastating blow to the head. They made it to the upper floor where the settlers must have been when they came across two raiders together. The dog tackled one of them while Colette finally pulled out the gun that she had already loaded. She disengaged the safety and shakily aimed the pistol at the man’s heart before pulling the trigger. Her trembling caused her aim to be off, hitting him in the shoulder. It was enough to stagger him, so she aimed and fired again, hitting him in the stomach. 

“Fuck,” she swore as she holstered the gun again, rubbing at her sore wrists. The kickback from the gun firing had shocked her. She hadn’t expected such a small gun to pack so much punch. Her ears were ringing, and as she saw the raider she shot draw his last breath, she finally understood why her dad was proud to have rarely ever used his gun during his career. Having the ability to kill in the palm of your hands was terrifying. 

In what felt like less than 24 hours to Colette, she had gone from being a life-saving doctor to having killed people using a gun, a bat, and a German Shepard. 

Colette went down the hall to the door that the raiders had been trying to knock down. “It’s me!” she called through the wood to the settlers within. 

The door opened to reveal a man in a strange outfit. His khaki overcoat covered an oddly ornamental vest and green scarf. He wore a leather hat and carried a gun that was cobbled together from what looked like scrap parts. “You’ve got fantastic timing. I’m Preston Garvey, and I’m with the Commonwealth Minutemen.” Preston extended his hand.

“Minutemen? As in the Minutemen from the American Revolution?” Colette asked as she shook the offered hand. 

“That was the idea behind us. To protect the people at a minute’s notice. Now it looks like I’m the last one of us left.” Preston and Colette looked at the others gathered in the room with them. 

A dark haired couple was in the corner, the woman with a scowl on her face and the man looking more despondent than anybody Colette had ever seen. 

Another woman was dressed like a fortune teller, her head covered in a patterned cloth, and her clothes hung loosely over her. The dog went straight to her and lied at her feet.

A muscular man in dirty overalls with black hair in a pompadour was tapping away at a terminal.

“What happened?” Colette asked him.

“We were in Quincy and the Gunners attacked us. Wiped most of us out. We went from 100 at Quincy, to 20 a month ago. There were 8 of us yesterday. Now it’s 5. Those are the Longs, Marcy and Jun in the corner. Old Mama Murphy is the one there on the couch. And this is Sturges.” Preston gestured to the man in the overalls who was approaching them now. 

“I’m Colette Arnold. I can understand having your life turned upside down like that.” 

“Yeah. You’re a vault dweller? How long have you been out of the vault?” Preston asked, indicating her jumpsuit.

“Less than 12 hours. I’d never held a gun before today.” Colette admitted sheepishly.

“Not too bad for your first firefight. If you don’t mind sticking around for a bit, we could use a bit more help.” Sturges presented.

“What can I do?” Colette asked. She could hear her dad’s voice in the back of her head.  _ Protect the innocent.  _

“There’s a crashed vertibird on the roof of this building. It’s Pre-War from what I could tell. There’s a suit of T-45 power armor in it. If we can get a fusion core in it, it would allow us better protection on our way to our next destination.” Sturges told her. 

“Where is that?” Colette asked. 

“There’s an old neighborhood a bit further North. Sanctuary. It’s out of downtown, so ferals are less likely, and it should have more room for crops.”

“I know the area well. Sanctuary is pretty empty right now. And you’re right, it’ll be a good place for you guys to call home after you get out of here.”

“Sturges and I can provide cover fire for you from the balcony while you’re in the power armor on the ground. You should be able to use the power armor to rip the minigun off the vertibird.” Preston told her. 

“Alright. So, what about the fusion core?” Colette asked.

“I figured that out already.” Struges told her. “The old reactor that powered this place is down in the basement. Pick the lock to the cage it’s in and the fusion core inside is all yours.” The man smiled crookedly at her. 

“Picking locks is something I’ve done before, lucky for us.” Colette sighed. “Alright, is the minigun simple to use?”

“Point and pull the trigger. The power armor should handle most of the kickback.” Preston assured her.

“Great. Thanks.” Colette saw herself out of the room and let Preston lock the door behind her. She took the dog with her back down into the basement. She pulled one of the bobby pins from the bun she had put her hair in. Taking the bobby pin and a screwdriver from the floor, she methodically picked the lock. When she felt the final catch in the locking mechanism give, the door grated open with a screech that made Colette flinch. The door opened barely enough to let her squeeze through, so she slipped in, pulled the fusion core from the reactor, and slipped back out. 

She made her way back up through the building, squinting when she stepped out onto the roof. The dog had bounded out the front door of the museum, wanting to get back to the ground, and was running in circles in the street below. 

Striding around the armor, she detached the bag that she had been collecting explosives in to where it would be easy to reach, just in case.

Colette hammered the fusion core into the power armor, twisting the mechanism to get in the suit. She took a deep breath and stepped inside. Since she was a civilian, she had no idea what the dials and numbers flashing at her meant. She strode to the downed vertibird and ripped the minigun off of it’s perch. 

“Can you hear me okay?” Sturges’s voice came through a speaker near her ear. 

“Yeah. I can hear you fine.” She told him.

“Awesome. I was able to patch into the suit’s old radio.”

“Maybe you can help explain how I’m gonna get this thing through this tiny doorway.” Colette suggested, looking at the small door that led back to the museum.

“No need to worry about that. Power armor can take any kind of fall. ‘S’long as you land on your feet, you’ll be golden.”

“Good to know.” Colette grumbled. She stepped to the edge, looking down to judge the height. Taking a deep breath and closing her eyes, Colette leapt off the roof of the museum. True to Struges’s word, she landed safely on her feet with a loud  _ bang _ . 

Colette swung around at the sound of gunfire. Preston was on the balcony above shooting at raiders with his laser musket. The gun didn’t look very efficient to Colette, requiring cranking before each shot. Colette hoisted up the minigun in her hands and pulled the trigger to fire. The gun shook violently in her hands, jarring her arms as she quickly mowed down the rest of the raiders with the help of Preston. The spread was what got them, not her aiming. 

“Looks like that was the last of them. Sit tight and we’ll be right-” Struges began, but he was cut off by a deep roar down the road. 

“What the hell was that?” Colette asked as a sewer grate went flying. The dog growled at the other end of the road as a monstrous _thing_ lumbered out of the ancient pipes. “Seriously, what the FUCK is that?”

“I suggest you start firing at that thing!” She heard Sturges yell. “I’ll join Preston and help you take it down.”

“Fuck!” Colette shouted as it charged at her. “Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK!” She screamed as she fired the minigun at the monster. It roared as lead tore into its stomach, opening up a bloody river. The shredded abdomen didn’t stop the beast though. It barreled straight into her, throwing her against the wall of the museum like a rag doll rather than a suit of power armor. She could hear Preston and Sturges firing off shots at it, but the scales on the rest of its body were too thick for them to do much damage. Colette reached for her explosives bag and pulled a grenade out while the monster reared back. After fumbling with it, she pulled the pin and waited half a second before tossing the grenade into its open maw. The beast swallowed the foreign object, not realizing the grave mistake that it made. Colette held her breath until its chest exploded in a rain of gore and bone fragments. She pushed it off her, and it fell to the ground, finally dead.

Colette hit the release on the inside of her right gauntlet and stumbled backwards out of the power armor. The dog rushed to her side, sniffing at her and whining. The sound of the door to the museum banging open as Preston and Sturges rushed out towards her caught her attention. 

“Holy shit, I’ve never seen a Deathclaw go down that fast.” Sturges had a grip on his own hair, as if to ground himself. 

“Deathclaw?” Colette asked, still processing what she had just survived. 

“You’ve never seen a Deathclaw?” Preston asked. “Right –fresh out of the vault. Where was your vault again?” 

“Let’s get you guys to Sanctuary. Then we can tell stories.” Colette told him. 

“Good call.” Preston said, before waving the rest of the group out of the museum.

“Somebody else should take the power armor for now. It was made for somebody much larger than me.” Colette said. 

“I’ve got it.” Sturges said before hopping into the armor.

“Alright, I’ll lead the way.” Colette took off down the street back towards Sanctuary, with the Last Minuteman and his charges following close behind. 


	3. Teach Me Tonight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Colette Arnold. I’m from Vault 111.” She shook the man’s hand.
> 
> “I’m MacCready. I’m a sniper by trade and I’m looking for work.”

Colette felt the lock of yet another safe click open. She had busied herself with opening every locked door and drawer in the destroyed houses so they could make use of the stored contents. She had to push down the guilt that she felt at going through the private belongings of her friends and neighbors. When she got to the house that belonged to the man she only knew as ‘Mr. Smith’ who had moved into the neighborhood shortly before Nick died, she snorted in disgust at the amount of chems in his house and his notes on his customers in the neighborhood. She put all of the chems into one safe and locked it back up. She would deal with the drugs later. 

She heard the Dog -who Mama Murphy had said was named ‘Dogmeat’- barking at something and rushed out to see that the dog was sniffing at a newcomer that had just crossed the footbridge. He was in a green cap and duster that was tattered so badly, an entire sleeve was missing. Under the duster was a dirty green shirt. His pants were too large and only held onto his wiry frame because of the belts of bullets that held them tight to his body. He carried a gun that looked to be in much better condition than what Preston and his settlers were carrying. 

He looked up at her as she walked out of the house. He had sharp, sky blue eyes and Colette felt herself being measured up. She didn’t let the stranger’s scrutiny phase her as he pushed past Dogmeat and approached her. 

“This is Sanctuary, right?” He asked. His voice sounded much younger than he looked. Up close, she could see that he was maintaining a goatee. The sandy brown facial hair had blended in with his skin from afar. “I heard the broadcast.”

Preston approached them and extended his hand. “Preston Garvey, Commonwealth Minutemen.”

The stranger’s eyes widened slightly as he took Preston’s hand and shook it. “Minutemen, huh?”

“That’s right. We’re what’s left of Quincy after the Gunners sacked it.” Preston told him.

“I see. And you are?” He asked Colette.

“Colette Arnold. I’m from Vault 111.” She shook the man’s hand.

“I’m MacCready. I’m a sniper by trade and I’m looking for work.”

“What types of payment do you accept?” Colette asked.

“Caps only.” MacCready looked at her as if the question she asked was ridiculous.

“Caps? As in, bottle caps?” She asked.

“The same bottle caps people have been using since the War. You must be fresh from the Vault.” MacCready raised his eyebrow at her. 

“That obvious?” She wasn’t wearing her Vault suit, and she didn’t think she stuck out  _ too _ much from the other settlers.

“I’ve met quite a few Vault Dwellers. You’re still too soft and clean to pass as a Wastelander.” He nodded to the PipBoy on her wrist. “And that’s also a dead giveaway. People only have one of those if they’re a Vault Dweller or if they killed one.”

Colette stifled the rising panic in her stomach. 

“I have a proposal for you.” Preston said. “Actually for both of you. It’s obvious Colette is new to the Wasteland and you’re looking for work. I’ll pay you to teach her how to shoot and other useful skills. After she’s had some practice, there are settlements out there that need help that the Minutemen don’t have the manpower for. I’d like you two to go out and help them any payment they offer afterwards is up to you to do with as you please. How does that sound?”

“And I won’t be a part of the Minutemen?” the man asked. 

“Not unless you plan on officially joining. You can still claim a house and bed in Sanctuary if  Colette is okay with it. She was here before we were.”

“Take the house with the workbenches. You look like you can actually make use of them.” Colette directed him to the house that was across the street from hers. 

MacCready seemed thrown off by that. “That’s awfully generous of you.”

“Would you rather bunk with somebody else?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“I know Mama Murphy wouldn’t mind sharing a house.” Preston pointed to the house right next to the footbridge.

“No, I’ll take the one with the workbenches.” MacCready looked between the two of them, now seeming uncomfortable more than anything. “I’m going to go get settled in. When do you want to begin training?” He asked Colette. 

“Tomorrow morning?” She asked as she glanced at the sky, the sun would be setting soon, and she didn’t want to practice shooting in the dark just yet. 

“Sounds good to me. Do you have your own gun?” He asked.

Colette nodded. “Yeah. I’ll bring it.”

“See you in the morning then.” MacCready nodded at her and started down the street. 

 

* * *

Colette didn’t sleep through the night anymore. If she wasn’t kept awake with all of the sounds coming through the holes in the walls and roof, she was woken up by nightmares. Morning came all too soon, the sun creeping into the house and burning her eyes.

Colette went to the dresser where a basin sat and filled it with water from a pitcher. Using a cut out section of an old shirt as a wash cloth, she cleaned her face as best as she could with cold water and no soap. She grimaced as she scrubbed dirt out of the still angry, red scar that curved down the left side of her face. She could still feel the glass from the shattered pitcher that Roger threw at her cutting into her skin. She shuddered and focused on the rest of her face to avoid the painful memory. Her sea green eyes had dark circles underneath them, and she was sure that she would look gaunt if she still didn’t have extra roundess to her face from the baby weight she still hadn’t lost. Finished with her face, Colette twisted her thick black hair up into a tight bun and secured it with bobby pins. She dressed in a warm button-up shirt and jeans, put on a pair of boots, and picked her gun up from the dresser before leaving the house.

The early November morning was chilly, and Colette thought about going back in and grabbing a jacket. She decided against it, knowing she could always go back since she wouldn’t be very far from the house. She went down the street, avoiding looking at the destroyed homes around her. She arrived at MacCready’s house and knocked on the door they had installed for more privacy. 

MacCready opened the door with a cigarette hanging from his mouth. He didn’t have his duster on, but looked the same as he had the day before. Colette could see his rifle laying on the coffee table in the living room and a battered bag sat in one of the chairs. Colette resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose as the smell of MacCready’s cigarette hit her. “You ready?” She asked, a little too excited. Learning how to fight meant she could go after Shaun’s kidnapper. 

“Yeah.” MacCready stepped out of the house and shut the door behind him. 

“You’re not bringing your gun?” Colette asked as he took another drag from his cigarette.

“Nope. I’m going to make sure you know how to take care of a gun before you shoot it.” He finished his cigarette and dropped it on the ground to be stubbed out with his toe. He pulled a cloth and bottle out of one of his pockets. “A dirty gun is a gun that jams. A gun that jams in the middle of a firefight might as well be a death sentence.”

“I have another one like this, if you want to show me and have me follow along.” Colette offered.

MacCready raised his eyebrows. “Alrighty then.” 

Colette went back to her room and pulled the other gun out of her trunk. She returned and found MacCready perched on one of the two stools he had pulled up to the weapons bench.

“I don’t know if there is anything different about these, but here is the other one I have.” Colette handed the gun to MacCready 

The man turned the new gun over in his hands, inspecting it carefully. “These are both standard unmodded 10 mils. They are exactly the same.”

“Oh. Okay. How can you tell that?” She asked as she sat down on the empty stool next to him. 

“I’ve been shooting since I was ten. I know the signs that there’s been mods. Mismatched materials, adhesive residue, things not lining up perfectly. These are both pristine, which is kinda rare. Nobody in the Wasteland cares or has the supplies to make a gun look seamless, for the most part. Where did you find these?”

“I got one of them when I-” Colette hesitated. This man was a stranger. She didn’t want everybody she came across know she was from before the bombs dropped. “-left the Vault.”

MacCready looked at her, not saying a word for a moment. “I see.” He finally said. “So what do you think the first step to cleaning your gun is?"

“Make sure it’s empty.” Colette said, matter-of-factly. Her dad never kept a gun in the house, but he made sure she knew the basics. 

“Right. Drop the magazine first.” MacCready set one of the guns in front of her and demonstrated on the other one. “Then you want to clear the chamber.” He demonstrated and Colette watched as an unfired bullet flew out of the chamber and clattered to the ground. “You could technically empty the entire magazine this way, but it’s not efficient. If you clear it first then drop it, there will still be one in the chamber and you’ll probably shoot someone.”

“Okay.” Colette nodded and looked at her own gun. She picked it up gently, making sure the barrel didn’t point at anything important. Looking for the release for the magazine, she pressed a button and the magazine popped out, allowing her to pull it from the gun smoothly. 

“Good.” MacCready encouraged her. “Now, clear the chamber.” 

Colette struggled for a moment, but MacCready didn’t move to do it for her, letting her figure it out on her own. Soon enough, another shell  _ clinked _ from her gun and rolled across the workbench.

“Not bad.” MacCready complimented her. “Now the next step is to disassemble the gun.” He paused his words to let her watch him slowly take apart the pistol. He was deliberate with every motion, making sure she caught everything. She followed along, one step behind him until both of their guns sat in pieces on the bench in front of them.

“Next, we take the cloth and wipe everything down. If anything, you should do at least this much after every use.” MacCready handed her one of the cloths and cleaned every surface and crevice of gunpowder and grime. “And then you apply the oil. It makes sure everything works that much smoother.”

Colette meticulously cleaned her gun under MacCready’s watchful eye. Once she had oiled all of her components, she followed his guidance and put the pieces back together. By the time they had finished, the sun was directly overhead and Colette could hear MacCready’s stomach grumble. 

“Sounds like it’s time for a break.” She suggested. “We’ve had a community lunch at the large tree the last few days. You’re more than welcome to join us.”

MacCready contemplated it for a moment before shrugging “Sure.” Colette led him to where Sturges was passing out cooked mole rat on a stick and mutfruit. 

“Colette! How are the shooting lessons going?” Preston greeted with a smile.

“No shooting yet. But my guns are nice and clean.”

“That’s an improvement, I suppose?” Preston passed her a can of purified water. 

“I learned something I didn’t know how to do before, so I would say yes.” Colette sippd the water. “Do you have Rad-X on you? I haven’t taken any yet today.”

“Feeling it?” Preston asked as he dug into his pocket and pulled out a pill bottle.

“Starting to, and I figure I should take one before I eat.”

“Are we expecting a Radstorm?” MacCready asked as he sat down.

“Not that I know of.” Colette answered. “I’m just really sensitive to radiation compared to non vault dwellers. I’d never experienced levels of radiation like this until I left the vault.”

“Never?” MacCready asked with a raised eyebrow as he tore a chunk of molerat off of the skewer in his hand with his teeth. “What about what the traders brought in from the wasteland?”

“We didn’t need to trade. We had everything we needed in the vault.” Colette hoped she sounded sure of herself.

MacCready studied her for a moment before shrugging and taking a bite of his mutfruit. Colette busied herself with her own food, grimacing at the unpleasant tingle the food left in her mouth and esophagus.

She couldn’t help but feel excited about taking the next step to finding the man that took her son. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now we have a Mac!


End file.
